Story 8

At a gathering, people were praising one of the great men and exaggerating his fine qualities. He raised his head and said: I am only what I know myself to be. You have spared me pain, you who count up my virtues: this is only my outward self, and you have no idea what lies within. In the eyes of the world my person looks handsome, but the corruption inside me bows my head in shame. People admire the peacock for the patterns and colors it wears, yet the bird is ashamed of its own ugly feet.